“Bear”

Maybe this song should've been called "Bull": Even in this bear market, the Antlers' stock is on the rise. Without being overtly derivative, they've put their own stamp on a modern strand of grandiose yet intimate indie rock. Peter Silberman's vocals, rising and falling in little shivers, recall Win Butler; the music is like a de-glitched version of Azeda Booth's somnolent anthems; the lyrics evoke Bon Iver's maudlin uplift and emotional intelligence ("Bear" thematically resembles "Blood Bank", with the same sweeping, break-up montage feel.) An apparent (and appropriate) quote of the "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" melody drifts into an original lullaby, but it's a sort of uneasy sleep, where Silberman wrestles with intuitions of loss: "When we get home we're bigger strangers/ Than we've ever been before/ You sit in front of snowy television/ Suitcase on the floor." It's the kind of song that essentially narrates its own music video, charting emotion via action. But lest things get too heavy, there are galvanic choruses where the eddying song takes flight, and a permeating sense of generosity: The ingenuous sentiment of the lyrics and singing feels risky, as if we're being shown something tender and real; a genuine vulnerability bared.